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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748132">A Taste of Fire and Salt</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbariousBarbarian/pseuds/BarbariousBarbarian'>BarbariousBarbarian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Age of Sail [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hornblower - C. S. Forester, World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Background Romance I guess, Doesn't stand alone, Everyone gets better, F/F, Flagrant Disregard for Canon, Here within lies ship to ship combat, Jess Sagewood/Fitz Fitzwilliams, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Third War, Random &amp; Short, Set in Quickyoke's "Increments of Longing" universe, Specifically; Jess has a bit of a bad day, The Kul Tiran Navy, The Qual'Thalan Navy, Zandalari trolls, change of perspective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:21:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbariousBarbarian/pseuds/BarbariousBarbarian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Commodore Jessanydra Sagewood is a reckless, roaring seadog - and protects Kul Tiras as best she knows how.</p><p>The Battle of the Unfortunate Kraken, from the perspective of Jess; a short-story set inside the main story of <i>Toil and Strife</i>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Age of Sail [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1321388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Taste of Fire and Salt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Dedicated to those <a href="https://youtu.be/4vkRIp86W9c">brave and noble few</a> who quite liked <i>Toil and Strife</i>. </p><p>A small reminder - in QuickYoke's <i>Increments</i> the Qual'Thalan military is forbidden to have Elvish mages attached.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The weather was fresh, and the winds were gusting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires </span>
  </em>
  <span>was a sturdy ship, but today she seemed infected by the ocean’s caprice; one moment had her driving forward as handily as one would wish. The next would have her plunging into every trough, sending spray sleeting across the deck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess made a few annotations to the report in front of her, felt the ship shudder, and sighed. Occasionally a drip of water would work its way inside through the stern window, and the safety-lamp swung from its hook, sending half-shadows skittering. Despite the chill she wielded her pencil smoothly, and the stack of paperwork grew taller. In her other hand, she held a warm mug of tea in place. Every time she moved this hand, the mug threatened to slide from her desk and into her lap - Jess was of half a mind to pitch the wretched thing out of a window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead she lifted it, and carefully sipped, savoring the herbal bitterness. Then she looped another signature across paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her ears twitched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From somewhere outside had come a sound, only faintly audible. It had been a distant, booming sound. Jess glanced sightlessly up from her desk, her reports forgotten, ears cocked in puzzlement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The urgent wailing of Bosun's pipes rang out. The mug splashed to the floor, forgotten. The thuds of sprinting boots and yelled commands had Jess half-way out of her seat before she was even aware of it. By the time she reached the door it had already been flung open - the steward passed over her hat. Jess pressed it on with murmured thanks, but didn’t stop. As she made her way into the dimness of the ‘tweendecks, a midshipman tumbled down the hatchway.</span>
</p><p><span>“Begging your pardon, ma’am,”</span> <span>he panted, touching his hat. “The Captain asks for you urgently.” </span></p><p><span>“Very well,”</span> <span>Jess said, not breaking stride. The middy turned and ran back up the ladder.</span></p><p>
  <span>By the time she gained the deck all around her was the very picture of purposeful chaos. Red coats swarmed across the deck, up masts, and along yards; sails were shaking out, and ropes were being coiled away. The Captain stood serene above it all, perched upon the quarterdeck. Under Jess’s feet came the rumble of canons being moved, and the groans of bulkheads being cleared for action - then more red coats poured out of every hatch and onto the deck. Jess’s strides lengthened, sailors ducking to make way. As she cleared the mizzen the nine-pound saluting gun fired; the smell of gunsmoke was whipped away by the wind.</span>
</p><p><span>“Captain Sandpiper,”</span> <span>Jess said, climbing the quarterdeck stairs. She tipped her ears back, almost casually. “My compliments to you, would you apprise me of the situation?” </span></p><p>
  <span>“Sloop approaching, ma’am,” Captain Sandpiper said, touching his hat respectfully. His ears flickered in puzzlement, almost imperceptibly. “Kul Tiran hull, firing its signalling gun.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He offered up his spyglass. </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess frowned and snapped it open, training it out to starboard. Her steward had appeared again and was now buckling on her sword; Jess ignored this. Visibility was not good - the deck heaved under her feet, and waves rose to obscure her line of sight - but finally a particularly heavy swell lifted the Kul Tiran up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sloop was streaming towards them, gaff rigged, riding down under a reckless press of sail. Ant-like figures crawled across its flushed deck. As Jess watched there was another puff of smoke from its bow, followed by the faint crack of thunder - the Kul Tiran had fired her saluting gun again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess blinked down the glass. She concentrated on the sound of her own breathing, on keeping her ears still. She knew that sloop. She knew every line of that sloop better than she knew her own heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Number 135, Sir: LAS </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity” </span>
  </em>
  <span>called the signal middy to the Captain, over the wind. “Signalling “Enemy to Leeward: Great Fleet in Peril.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess dropped the spyglass to her side, turning towards her waiting officers. They looked at her, faces carefully blank, but one or two ears were slowly flickering. She returned this with her own blandness, forcing her hands to relax. It was only then she noticed that her grip around the spyglass had turned her knuckles white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Acknowledge</span>
  <em>
    <span> Tenacity,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>said Sandpiper to the Midshipman, then stepped forward. He was tall and steady, and blocked off the junior officers. “Commodore, your orders?”</span>
</p><p><span>“We make haste, Captain,” Jess said calmly. “Signal to</span><em><span> Tenacity.</span></em><span> Have her join the squadron at the windward station.” She carefully closed the glass up, passing it back to Sandpiper.</span> <span>“Then make the general signal for the squadron to prepare for battle.”</span></p><p>
  <span>From atop the mast came a burst of excited yelling, and hands calling for the Captain. Jess’s hand dropped to her sword, and she glanced up - the mainmast’s lookout was pointing frantically over the port bow. “Contact! Contact to leeward! Zandalari ships and… and some sort of giant squid, Sir! Great Fleet heavily engaged!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All over the deck, work faltered. Weatherbeaten faces turned to stare at each other, then up at the quarterdeck. Ears slanted back and forth in alarm..</span>
</p><p><span>“Excellent news,” Jess said cooly. “Dinner after our entertainment.”</span> <span>She turned, releasing her sword. “Have you sent my signal, Captain? We will need the halyard for squadron orders soon.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper drew himself up, and slowly nodded; his fist also uncurled from the hilt of his sword. “Mx. Fallwater, execute the Commodore's signal, if you please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye aye, Sir!” The middy looked green, but gamely ducked down towards the locker. On deck, the crew steadied. Signals soared up the halyards, breaking and snapping in the wind, and Jess’s broad pennant streamed proudly above it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess clasped her hands behind her back, turning back to the ocean; then she forced her ears to rake forward against the wind. Let the crew think her eager for battle, let the officers think her young and reckless - as long as they thought her ears trembled only from the wind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For several long minutes, there was silence on the quarterdeck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“New signal from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sir,” called the middy. Their voice was oddly pitched. “Kraken controlled by enemy flagship.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Acknowledge,” called Sandpiper, shooting Jess a glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the lieutenants coughed, and another fidgeted. Sandpiper seemed to come back to himself - he glanced at his officers, then immediately began to stride around, ears forward. A few of the warrants on the quarterdeck lifted their voices to encourage their divisions, and the steadier Lieutenants were sent below on errands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess cast grey eyes over it all, then ignored it. Sandpiper had his crew in hand, and would fight the ship; her role was to make their sacrifices count. Instead she stared out over the grey ocean, gazing fiercely at </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Damn your eyes, Fitz,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she whispered in Humanic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Why are you here?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sloop gave no answer, and nor did the waves. They lashed up, surges of grey and swirling whitecaps. Pipes shrilled and warrants bellowed; the squadron piled on more sail. Almost imperceptibly, the deck further heeled under Jess’s feet as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires </span>
  </em>
  <span>gained speed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper dropped back to Jess’s side again, dropping his hands on the rail. They both watched </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity </span>
  </em>
  <span>turn, trailing a long, white wake of foam. Figures raced up and down the three raking masts, moving like dancers over the lines. When the jibe was complete, the sloop was exactly to windward, perfectly matched in speed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Beautiful,” breathed Sandpiper, almost involuntarily.</span>
</p><p><span>“Yes,”</span> <span>said Jess heavily. “Beautiful.” </span></p><p>
  <span>She glanced out over the waters on the port side, away from the coursing sloop. Chunks of broken ice bumped up against the hull, and the distant roar of canons was now audible. As she watched, a massive tentacle overtopped the waves, before disappearing downwards behind the water again. Black masts - what could only be the Zandalari fleet - appeared and vanished as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires </span>
  </em>
  <span>pitched. Jess considered the tactical position the squadron was in, nodded to herself, then turned back to port</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If she squinted, she could almost see a gangly figure on the Kul Tiran quarterdeck, clad in the deep blue of the Lord Admiral’s Navy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s hand tightened on the rail. “Order </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity</span>
  </em>
  <span> more to windward.”</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am,” said Sandpiper slowly. “Your orders are understandable. But perhaps I could urge you to reconsider?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s ears slowly pivoted towards him, and began to flatten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With respect,” said Sandpiper, into the frozen silence. His ears slid back to a perfect forty-five degree angle, and his voice was so quiet it was almost a breath. “We must place our feelings aside. That is a warship, and we are at war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Then she turned and looked him full in the face. “On that sloop is the heir to Kul Tiras,” she said, voice low and full of teeth. “And you overstep yourself.” She turned back to the ocean. “Order </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity</span>
  </em>
  <span> to take her place more to windward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pause. “Very good, ma’am,” Sandpiper said. He touched his hat then walked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess knew she couldn’t stay long - nor should she. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity </span>
  </em>
  <span>was racing over the water, a hound straining at the leash - but an obedient one. Even as she watched, the sloop turned her nose and slid away from the Elvish fleet, reluctance in every line. On the Kul Tiran quarterdeck, surrounded by checked shirts, she could see a dark figure begin to pace, frustration evident. Jess breathed out a small sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She allowed herself just one moment more before turning back, keen eyes raking across the battlefield. The Zandalari were fully in sight now, a line of tall ships beating proudly down the Gullet, black masts clawing up against the grey sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess counted the enemy again, just in case - but there were still fifteen, including five ships-of-the-line. The Quel’Thalan squadron was badly outgunned. Beyond them was the slick bulk of the Kraken, its limbs flailing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her five friendly frigates, with ten assorted other ships in tow, against a force three times their guns. It would have to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prey for the taking,” </span>
  <span>Jess smiled fiercely, ears alert and warlike. “They cannot escape us this time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trapped between us and the kraken,” Sandpiper replied, raking his ears forward to match hers. “And they will soon prefer the kraken. What are your orders, Ma’am?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around them ears pricked up, flickering in the wind. The junior officers seemed to lean closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess watched them from the corner of her eye. “The wind and Sun have decided how we hunt, Captain.” She made a show of staring up at the commissioning pennant, drawing all eyes to its direction. “A straight shot. We will ride our quarry down, and take our prizes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper touched the brim of his hat, and his ears swiveled jauntily. Then he wa</span>
  <span>ved a hand at the middy. “Signal the squadron to make all speed, and fire only on the Commodore’s orders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye aye, Sir,” they chirped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sound to quarters,” Sandpiper continued. A warrant roared an order across the deck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess suppressed a wince as the Ranger blew her graved horn, and - like during every previous occurrence - resolved to stand somewhere else next time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All over the ship, red-coated Elves raced for their stations. Ammunition appeared next to rolling canons, debris was cleared, and decks were sanded. Around the ship and over the water, the remainder of the squadron was sounding echoing calls to the hunt. Under the din came the faint roll of a single drum, beating steadily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the squadron not a yard shivered, not a soul hesitated. The squadron sailed defiantly towards the foe. Jess nodded to herself in satisfaction at it all, letting her stance communicate her pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Against the wind and waves, over the blaring horns, there came the sudden high-pitched sound of screaming - Sandpiper’s ears cocked, and Jess felt her own twitch. The Kraken heaved its monstrous bulk upward, glistening menacingly, white eye rolling madly. When it fell back, it was with a crash and a massive wash of water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Kul Tirans were mostly in view now, although periodically it disappeared into a dense cloud of gunsmoke and fury. The Great Fleet was standing out valiantly, but their ranks were thinning; the surviving men o’ war were fighting both the squid and the unnaturally moving water. But not all was lost - somewhere in the mass of ships Jess could feel the power of the Lord Admiral, raging like a storm in winter.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Quel’Thalan squadron was charging down on the Zandalari - they were making good time. Jess could still almost taste her own impatience on her tongue. More than anything, she wanted to be beside Jaina - to hear the roar of canons and feel the grit of gunsmoke - to bring the world to her Admiral’s heel. Her own magic rose up in echo to her thoughts, as if summoned - it pooled thickly under her ribs. She swallowed it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Form a line of action, if you please,” she said calmly. “Quel’Thalans only.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye aye, Ma’am,” said Sandpiper. “Midshipman Fallwater - to your duty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The middy rushed away towards the locker. Jess watched the signals soar up - they lingered in the air - then come down sharply in the executive. All around her, frigates and sloops dropped into line, precise as clockwork.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re just about in range,” Sandpiper told a nearby Lieutenant. “Activate the spellbreak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman touched the brim of her hat, and strode towards the very stern. There was the shout of orders, and the air took on a sharp, metallic flavour. The magic in Jess’s chest winked out like a snuffed candle. Sandpiper eyed her carefully, but Jess merely swallowed against the empty feeling, and reset her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it like to fight alongside mages, ma’am?” he asked casually. “Them not being strictly civilian? The Lord Admiral...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kraken screamed again, and both Elves turned involuntarily. The ocean around the squid had risen unnaturally, purposefully, a wave wrapping around a tentacle. For a single, terrible moment it was if the great surge of water paused, then the water washed back. The kraken’s arm was torn unstoppably from its mantle, and flung lengthwise into the air; it rotated lazily before crashing into the sea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By the Sun,” exclaimed Sandpiper, ears pinning back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess cleared her throat, absently smoothing down her peacoat - she had fisted the fabric, and the crumple was still visible. “Fighting alongside mages is an experience.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely,” Sandpiper said, faintly. He wrenched his ears back to casual with obvious effort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kraken had stilled, but began twitching, squirming and thrashing. Great chunks of unseasonable ice broke around it, some stained dark with blood. Sandpiper made to speak again when a massive spear of ice lanced up and out of the water, piercing the mantle of the squid, locking it in place. It screamed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With an effort, Jess turned her attention away from the desperate, thrashing kraken, to their Trollish enemy. The two columns still closed on one another. The crews were now close enough to start jeering at one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will soon be time,” Jess said. She turned and moved towards the centre of the quarterdeck, closer to the signal middy. “Let us attend to our business. The Lord Admiral will see to her own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you wish, Commodore,” said Sandpiper, dragging his eyes away and gesturing for the attention of his officers. Jess threw another restless eye over her little squadron, but they were well trained. Each ship was deployed as crisply as could be desired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost involuntarily, her eyes drifted starboard, towards the sleek sloop cutting bravely over the sea. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity </span>
  </em>
  <span>remained on station, exactly to windward, as instructed. Jess wrenched her gaze back to port. It was just cancelled magic, she told herself. Any hollow feeling in her chest. It was just cancelled magic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Zanadalari were close now; the Quel’Thalans were nearly abeam of them. Their guns were run out - Jess could see the crews crouched beside them. “Steady now,” she said, grasping a backstay. It was an officer’s duty not to flinch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper leaned commandingly over the rail, calling stridently. “All hands brace! Brace!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there was no vision, no sound. There was only the massive concussion of a hundred enemy guns going off all at once, and a dense cloud of smoke. Splinters flew high in the air from the leading ships of her line, and red coats scattered across decks like skittles. The foresail of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Layers of Sandstone </span>
  </em>
  <span>came down, flapping against the mast. More red coats swarmed out along the yards to crudely set the rigging back. Behind it, the squadron was forced to slow, matching the new speed, luffing their sails and shouting encouragement across the waters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess allowed herself a single moment to check on continued possession of all of her limbs. Then she turned and began to slowly pace, calculating the new speed and its impacts on range, closing angles, wind and water. There was a quick, fierce debate within herself. Then she nodded. At the forward rail she stopped, leaned back on her heels, and quirked her ears  thoughtfully. Those officers not managing the chaos around them glanced at each other, and reset their own posture, faces grim. The slower speed was a risk - the Trolls might be quick enough to fire again - but Jess had a taste for risk. The Trolls outnumbered them. The situation was already dire. Only the full force of the total Quel’Thalan broadside might do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a hissing noise behind her, and Jess turned to watch the spellbreak come alight. “Confirmation of enemy mages, Sir!” called the crew leader. Jess nodded to herself, unsurprised, then turned back to watching the battle. The only result of the shamanic efforts had been a single turn of water from the pump, and a token cloud of steam. Colours still played across the coils of metal - the attendant plying the hose doused it down again - but their effort was currently hardly worth it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess contemplated the range for another few minutes, then nodded to herself again. “Captain Sandpiper,” she said. “Please organise the command to fire - to be executed only on my orders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye aye, Ma’am,” Sandpiper replied crisply. “Signal midshipman!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The black flag rose, and broke at the top of the halyard. The whole squadron sent up eager flags of  acknowledgement. Gunports popped open, and the black mouths of cannons ran out. Then there was only the crashing sea and a breathless pause, as four thousand people awaited her next command.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Execute signal,” Jess said. The flag dropped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fire!” yelled Sandpiper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“FIRE!</span>
  <em>
    <span>” </span>
  </em>
  <span>roared the Bosun - and then the world was wreathed in flame and smoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fires Rush Across the Grasslands </span>
  </em>
  <span>heeled down as if pressed by some enormous hand, and flame seemed to pour through the air. Jess blinked rapidly to clear her eyes from smoke and sparks, peering out to see the result of her Squadron’s efforts. Under her came the rumbles and curses and cries of the canons being reloaded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the water, some of the smaller Zandalari ships had been brutally struck. One sloop had been dismasted completely, and ominous smoke rose from a trailing frigate. But otherwise, there was no sign of any further consternation from the enemy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess kept the dismay off her face only with effort, instead pacing ildy along the windward rail; her ears remained raked forward in a warlike aspect. Internally, thoughts raced through a dozen plans, proposing and discarding them. The few small pickings taken already would never do - not when the third-rates and forth-rates sailed on, shrugging off the paltry broadside. Now the enemy crews were running out their canons again, and holding fast. She could see their crews again, stooped beside the guns. Her hand instinctively grasped at another backstay. Now it would only be a matter of time before-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>- the second great crash, the roar and thunder of the Zanaldari, booming out to smash into her squadron like some enormous hammer. Great splinters flew everywhere across </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fire’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>deck, throwing sand and rope into the air; hauling a cannon from its carriage. Across the deck came the screams and cries of wounded sailors, and blood sprayed across the ground. The strident orders of warrants started, and sailors moved in disciplined concert to clear the damage. The loose cannon was heaved overside, and above them Rangers began rapid-firing muskets from the tops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lay alongside the enemy!” Jess yelled, pulling her sword free. “Signal the Squadron to engage at will!” It was their only chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Captain Sandpiper was bleeding. Jess could see the blood drip from his newly-cropped ear - it darkened the red cloth of his coat. But he seemed indifferent to pain or fear, the adrenaline of battle gripping him. “The flagship!” he roared over the din. With blazing eyes, he turned to his helmsman. “Find the flagship! Plot a course that will get me there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye aye, Sir,” the helmsman yelled back, heaving on the wheel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another great crash erupted from the belly of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires, </span>
  </em>
  <span>timbers shivering and groaning, sending cannonballs to punch great gouges in the flank of the Trollish ship - but not enough. Not nearly enough. Around them the rest of the Squadron was also firing as they bore, the roar of cannons becoming continuous. Belching smoke and fury came from every side. Jess turned in time to see </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sandstone’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>foremast came away completely, falling with a crash to plunge into the sea. Figures rushed for’ard, pulling people free and slicing the rigging away with axes and knives. To the wounded frigate’s port, a Trollish third-rate clawed up to deliver the death-blow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above it all the kraken continued to scream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s ears were flattened against her head - a sensible precaution against the terrific noise. She had little to do. Retreat would doom the Lord Admiral, and she would call for it only if the battle became hopeless. Jess resigned herself to watching and waiting - but, she consoled herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires </span>
  </em>
  <span>was making fine steerway towards the enemy flagship. Thunder and fire continued to roar out from every side, and below her feet. Perhaps she would be useful yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commodore!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess turned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young midshipman in charge of the starboard division was pushing her way through the chaos, her ears fluttering in alarm. “Begging your pardon, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity</span>
  </em>
  <span> is lowering boats into the water!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> said Jess softly. Then, much more loudly, “What in the name of the Sun?” She shoved her way over to the starboard rail, trailed by the shaking middy. She ducked around a Ranger loading her pistol, then pulled herself up onto the rail to get a better look.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity </span>
  </em>
  <span>was indeed lowering its boats into the water and more besides, as a great deal of her crew was already inside them. Jess took in the scene, struggling to comprehend it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are they doing, ma’am?” asked the midshipman, timidly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing good,” Jess murmured. She realised her ears had slanted back - she raked them forward again, and straightened, firming her voice. “I’m not sure, Midshipman. We will need to find out.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fire’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> cannons roared out again, malice and rage and thunder. Jess rode the pressure, then for the first time truly looked the young elf beside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Midshipman really was young - perhaps no older than thirty - and her face was stricken. Jess berated herself, dropping back down to the deck - grey eyes met glowing blue - caught and held them. She nodded reassurance. “Run to the signal locker,” she said, calmly - far more calmly than she actually felt, “Run like you have never run, and find out what’s happening over there - you and Mx Fallwater are to keep those query flags flying until you receive an answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye aye, ma’am,” squeaked the midshipman.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess placed a hand on the middy’s shoulder. “The Ranger-General needs you today,” she said, locking eyes. “I’m trusting you not to let her down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Middy looked determined; her posture had straightened, and her eyes filled with purpose. “I swear by the Sun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” said Jess. “Go.” She lifted her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The middy scampered off, dodging nimbly through the crowd on deck. Jess turned to push her own way back towards the quarterdeck, climbing the stairs only to find Sandpiper directing damage control parties - a fire had sprung up on the leeward side and a dozen hands were working to smother it. She gestured sharply to her Captain and he strode over, pointing imperiously to the First Lieutenant as he went.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over his shoulder the flagship loomed - but it was still cable-lengths away. The high state of the seas was not conducive to closing, and both ships were maneuvering frantically around one another, trying to gain advantage. The Trolls seemed to be torn between boarding and simply ramming them</span>
  <em>
    <span>. Fires </span>
  </em>
  <span>was busily firing point-blank broadsides, lunging around the enemy under a reckless spread of sail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess judged it would be at least fifteen minutes before hooks could be thrown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper drew level, and together they made their way back down to the main deck, pushing through the scum. Beyond the mizzenmast afforded a good view, between the clouds of gunsmoke - Jess swept a hand to starboard, inviting Sandpiper to look. He leaned out, ears twisting in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are they… abandoning ship, Ma’am?” said Sandpiper, hoarsely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it would seem,” Jess said, narrowing her eyes. “But for what purpose?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity </span>
  </em>
  <span>was doing, it was being executed swiftly; several craft were now drifting free from the ship, and figures crawled all over those few craft that were still tied up. A great heap of sailors crowded up against the rail, clearly waiting their turn to disembark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper shook his head slowly. “But they haven’t been engaged,” he said, sounding bewildered. “They are far enough out of range to have surely taken no damage. Why would a Kul Tiran abandon a warship?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess made a short gesture of bafflement, and turned to see if the little midshipman was returning with answers. Instead there was a crewman, who was waiting to deliver a message to Sandpiper. It wasn’t good news. The Captain’s shoulders tensed, and he glanced at Jess meaningfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go, Cecilus,” Jess said, ears cocking. “It is likely nothing. Go fight your ship. But, if you please, leave me your spyglass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper touched the brim of his hat, before passing the glass into her hands. He then strode towards the quarterdeck; in an instant the gunsmoke and chaos of the main deck closed in on him from every side, and he was swallowed up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess turned once again to the ocean, snapping the glass open. She did not believe it was nothing. Her ears twitched in worry. The little view wavered across grey water, before fixed on the quarterdeck of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was Jackson, a massive slab of muscle in a checked shirt. And there was her Captain - lanky, shabby, casually wearing the single golden epaulette of the Lord Admiral herself. Fitz was making a slashing gesture with one hand, clearly animated. Jackson seemed to hesitate. Then the Bosun squared, touching the brim of her hat. Jess tracked Jackson turning to drop down to the main deck. Jess dropped the glass, frowned, then swung the glass back up to scan across the entire length of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was not one other soul anywhere aboard - not on the deck, not in the rigging. With Jackson’s departure Fitz was alone - totally alone - and walking leisurely over towards the rail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bitter, breathless gorge rose, unstoppably, from the pit of Jess’s stomach. She frantically scanned the water, not bothering with the glass. The boats were difficult to catch in the swell - but there the final two were. Undeniably, inexorably, every single craft launched to sea was now drifting away from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, Fitz,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jess breathed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Whatever this is, no. No, this is… this is... ”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity </span>
  </em>
  <span>was still under full press of sail. A gust of wind whipped away the tops of the swells as they ran under her hull. The tiny figure on the quarterdeck, still pacing easily, passed out of sight. Jess leaned out slightly across the rail, over the grey ocean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she thrust herself away and strode back across the deck towards the signalling crew. “Any reply to our flags, midshipmen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Negative, ma’am,” said Fallwater. Behind them, the little middy had shoved her whole body in the signal locker, and was pawing through the cubbies for yet more flags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Set new signals,” said Jess, her ears slanting broadly. “Make </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> number and order her to stop. Put up every ‘recall’ flag you can think of up that halyard, if you please, and do it with urgency.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye aye, ma’am,” the middy stuttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess shoved the useless spyglass into their hand; she turned to stalk across the quarterdeck. Her whole body felt seized with apprehension and strain, but she knew her duty; grey eyes stared up at the looming bulk of the enemy flagship. “Come on then, you bastards,” she whispered fiercely. “Let us hold our conversation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am, we’re about to lay along the Zandalari!” said one of the lieutenants, unnecessarily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she called back. She drew her sword, and cast another restless glance over her squadron. In her peripheral vision, she saw the two midshipmen by the locker scramble around in a burst of activity - there was a quick exchange between them, and then Fallwater was running over, face pale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What news?” demanded Jess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The midshipman’s ears drooped. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tenacity </span>
  </em>
  <span>to Commodore; Cannot Comply. I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p><span>Jess felt like her breath had seized in her throat, like her heart was caught in a vice. She glanced out over to starboard again, but the sloop</span> <span>was not in sight. It didn’t matter. Jess knew what course Fitz had chosen, and where the </span><em><span>Tenacity </span></em><span>must be going.</span></p><p>
  <span>With a cry, Jess turned and charged towards the port rail. Trollish grappling hooks were raining down to seize the Qual’Thalan tightly, and musket balls fell like hail, sweeping across the deck. Trolls poured down from the side of the flagship, and Jess welcomed them. She stabbed one Zandalari, and felt the answering thrust cut a rent in her sleeve. A hasty block slapped away the axe that span towards her head, and she chopped savagely down at the tusked face behind it. Suddenly there were arrows - shafts whistled past her ear to take Trolls in their throats and eyes and chests. Out of the tops a musket ball splashed down near her foot, and the ranger beside her retreated. Jess moved back to flank her, and rapidly assessed the situation on deck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around her Trolls were pushing, surging up towards the quarterdeck, and grenades exploded at random, adding to the chaos. All was blood, and powder, and sharp steel - there was only the fight - then Jess was engaged by another Troll, and there was no room for anything else. Blood ran freely down the deck, soaking into the waiting sand. Jess dispatched one, then another; then she lifted her sword again, and glanced up at the enemy ship. More and more trolls were dropped down to the Elvish deck. The crew of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires </span>
  </em>
  <span>began to falter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess fought with all the skill and fury and dirt her grandfather had ever shown her, and rangers and sailors rallied around her - but nothing was enough. They were losing, and with them died the hopes of saving the Great Fleet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Captain says to break us away!” came a cry, which was taken up by every Elvish throat. “ Break the ship away!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess agreed; the flow of Trollish reinforcements must be ended. She roared out a battlecry, and lifted her sword - faces turned to her, then hardened with determination. As one, every red coat and green cloak echoed her cry. They pressed forward in a great rush; their assault cutting through the Trolls to reach the portside rail. A nearby ranger dropped her bow and began to knife away the grappling lines holding the ships together - other elves took to the ropes with axes and swords. The remaining lashings strained, then suddenly began to part, ripping with resonant twangs. Yet more Quel’Thalans with poles rushed forward, shoving </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires </span>
  </em>
  <span>away from the Zandalari flagship. The gap widened and an unlucky Troll fell in, crashing into the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The spellbreak!” came the sudden frantic call. “To the spellbreak!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess turned and ran. A screaming Trollish sailor loomed out of the smoke, and took her sword through his thigh for his trouble. Jess dodged by him, leaping nimbly over the shattered remains of a swivel gun, and was just reaching for the quarterdeck stairs when sharp pain flared across her shoulder - her sword fell from a suddenly nerveless hand. Jess staggered, turning - a Troll lifted his mace for the final blow - only to be stabbed in the back by an elf in a green cloak. The Ranger sank back into the smoke before the Troll had even hit the deck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess snatched up her sword again, then leapt up the quarterdeck stairs. </span>
</p><p><span>The crew of the spellbreak were fighting desperately. The coils of metal were blazing cherry-red from the sheer force of magic assailing </span><em><span>Fires, </span></em><span>and</span> <span>a life-and-death struggle was being fought over the pump. As Jess watched, a Troll managed to cut the hose. Then the emergency douse barrel - either by a desperate Qual’Thalan or some accident - toppled over, sluicing its critical water across the deck. </span></p><p>
  <span>Jess started fighting her way over with desperate abandon. “To the pump!” she cried. “For Quel’Thalas and the Ranger General, rally to the pump!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But a great surge of Trolls lay between her and the equipment - yet more guarded a shaman, who waited patiently behind them. This mage lifted his arms and began to chant experimentally. The spellbreak flashed up again, glowing white-hot - the Troll shrugged casually, and lowered his arms again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess delivered a knee to a Trollish groin, blocked an aborted sword-swing with a flick of her own blade, then punched out with her off-hand. They reeled backwards, and Jess used the space to open their chest with a vicious strike. The body toppled to the ground, rendering visible a deck choked with enemy marines. Jess raised her sword again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shaman tilted his head once more, then lifted his arms again, almost languidly. That deep, discordant chanting echoed again, and the spellbreak became almost painful to look at, as fierce as the sun. Jess threw up a hand to protect her eyes, staggering back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then suddenly the blazing light cut out - and magic was there, warm and bubbling. Jess slashed out again with her sword, fighting to stay in place. The shaman took no notice - instead he started tracing a deathward, every line a cruelty. Jess’s foot kicked something, and she picked up the object blindly, throwing it with all her might - the captain’s dropped spyglass smacked into the shaman’s mask. It was just enough - he flinched, and the glyph he’d been tracing vanished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess dropped her sword and fell inward, seizing the warmth, dragging it up and sinking into her power. Then she slashed out the downward stroke to throw her outward in all directions. The world spun sickeningly as her awareness shifted and split; she was briefly aware of her own body slumping to the deck, and of Rangers charging forward to drag it back down the staircase. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was the sight of the Trollish sailors in front of her, exultant in victory, moving as if in slow motion; there was the taste of hopelessness from the struggles of the squadron all around her. She could smell the salt of the Lord Admiral’s power in the distance, and hear the timbers crack as a small sloop disintegrated, lodged in the eye of a gargantuan squid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But most importantly she could feel the ship - and not just her beloved </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but every nook and cranny aboard the Zandalari as well. Every cask of water, every crate of rope. The magic within her blazed up, light and heat, fire coming eagerly to her calling. She seized that fire, bright as the sun, and threw it deep into the heart of the Trollish flagship’s magazine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Zandalari ship exploded. The world turned into a furnace. Splintered timber sprayed out in every direction; </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fires </span>
  </em>
  <span>shivered from the force of the strikes. Jess was thrown back into herself with incredible violence, her world shrinking just as it had grown. There on the edges was the smell of salt and power - there a little closer was the fury of a squadron given hope - there right above her was the sight of a Trollish mage, lying broken on the deck, with a piece of splintered planking spearing through his chest. The world was small again; nothing but the smell of fire, the ache of battle, and the ringing in her ears. But even this was too large - her gifts were too small, and the efforts made too much. She blacked out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jess blinked her ears open again, she was staring up at the grey sky. Under her head was someone’s peacoat, and next to her lay a stretcher. Neatly placed beside her lay a bloody sword - her own</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something gritty and sticky clung to her cheek - she lifted one hand and brushed it off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commodore Sagewood?” someone was saying. “Commodore Sagewood, are you awake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess pushed herself up. Suddenly a dozen faces crowded around her, swimming in and out of focus. Massive hands pulled her onto into a sitting position, and she swayed slightly, blinking and disoriented. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me up,” she said. “Up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pushed against the deck - someone reached down and pulled. The world spun in a sickening slant, ending with her leaning against what felt like a solid slab of muscle. Figures were all around her, crowding closer, patting her on her shoulder, shouting congratulations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did it, Commodore Sagewood,” Sandpiper crowed. The stump of his ear was neatly bandaged, but every other part of him was bloody and torn. “The Trolls have struck their colours, and the kraken is gone!” He shoved back against the crowd. “Push back there, make some space for the Commodore, give her some air.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deck began to open up, and Jess looked around blearly. Several of the figures around her were dressed Kul Tiran style, all checked shirts and Admiralty blue. The lady in more familiar green by the stretcher was clearly the medic - she was looking at Jess with an appraising eye. Navy red moved everywhere, carrying with them the sounds of sawing timbers and straining backs. But there were no Trolls left on this part of the afterdeck - not even the dead. The air was thick with the smell of blood and the reek of burnt things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Report, Captain,” Jess managed. “What is our current situation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sandstone </span>
  </em>
  <span>is dismasted</span>
  <em>
    <span>,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>said Sandpiper, single ear tilting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Swiftsure Waters</span>
  </em>
  <span> has a twelve-degree list, but is afloat. Casualty reports are still coming in - they are heavy, but most only wounded so far, and no ship reports being short of manpower.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Jess nodded mechanically. “Reform the squadron, if you please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper nodded, and tilting his head meaningfully at the First Lieutenant. She touched the brim of her hat, and strode up the stairs towards the quarterdeck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>With all due respect, ma’am,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” rumbled the figure she was currently propped against. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Perhaps we should get you below.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess smiled, raking her ears forward. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>There can be no rest for the wicked, Jackson,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she said - then paused.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Speaking of which, where is Commander Fitzwilliams?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper rocked. He hesitated, then jerkily pointed to a random Qual’Thalan sailor. “Fetch the Commodore’s steward, quickly now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jackson’s voice was impossibly gentle. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lieutenant Sprocket will explain below, ma’am, as best he can. Will you let us help you there?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess pushed away to stand shakily on her own two feet; she stared into the closed face of Sandpiper, the sympathetic eyes of Jackson. Over their shoulder she could see a dozen human faces, weary and battered. Sprocket was staring at her, flanked by Woods and Crosby, and next to them, Clyburn was weeping silently, standing hunched over what looked like a little box. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s hands worked open and closed. Her head felt light, and everything was suddenly too bright. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Where is Fitzwilliams?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone looked at her, wordlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lost to the Tides,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>someone hissed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Swallowed by the deep.” </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jess turned to meet cold eyes. These blazed out from underneath a deep blue hood, which curled like a cresting wave. The staff of a Tidesage’s office lay gripped in one one clawed hand. His expression was inscrutable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jackson reached forward as if to steady Jess, then hesitated. Abruptly she turned, snatching her tricorn from her head. Jess was suddenly surrounded again, a wall of checked shirts all facing outwards, packed so tightly together that she couldn’t see beyond them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lost,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> said Jess, quietly, almost consideringly. Suddenly she was sitting. A peacoat had been thrown over the base of the stairs, and now she was sitting on it. When that had happened she didn’t know. She looked down at the sleeve of her own jacket, blankly - some of the gold braiding was falling off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her ears pricked up; there was an argument happening nearby, quiet and low. But Jess found it difficult to parse out meaning - instead she lifted her eyes from her sleeve to stare blankly at one of her hands. She was amazed to see it was shaking - that her whole body was shaking. She tilted her head and listened to the pounding of her own heart, the roar of blood in her ears. Her insides felt hollow, disjointed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something inside her chest abruptly cracked, shattering into a thousand, thousand pieces; Jess was swallowed up in overwhelming pain. Guilt and fear, denial, shock, all rose to coat her stomach, her throat, her mouth, rocking her forwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lost,” she breathed, thickly. Her ears jerked at random, thumping against her hat. Finally, clumsily, she pulled the hat off, swiping her face with the sleeve of her jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two of the humans in front of her had shuffled backwards a little - then a little more - and more again. Finally they broke, peeling back. In the gap created stood the Tidesage, staring at her contemplatively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lost,” said Jess, dully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tidesage said nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess surged to her feet, furious; nothing had ever been more unfair than this, more unreasonable. Her fists clenched, ears stabbing, face twisted into a snarl.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Tell me where she is!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kul Tirans stared at her in real horror. But clawed hands tapped that garish, unnatural staff, and the hood tilted, as if listening to something unheard. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Very well,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said. Then he turned, and walked towards the waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess unclenched her fists enough to throw back on her hat, before striding after him. Her ears began to thump against the fabric again. “Sandpiper.”</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes ma’am?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is the squadron reformed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then make ready my gig.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper’s face was frozen, creased with worry - he turned to Sprocket, with whom he had clearly just been arguing - then he turned back almost helplessly. “Ma’am…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess made a chopping motion with her arm, cutting him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye aye, ma’am,” he said slowly. “If you will permit me, I will also…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are needed here,” Jess grated. “Continue to repair my ships - we will junction with the Great Fleet as soon as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I g</span>
  <span>ô</span>
  <span>,” said Sprocket, in Thelessian. “I... will gee? I will g</span>
  <span>ô</span>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Can you row?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” said Jess shortly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sprocket drew himself up - all one-and-one-half meters of him - almost scoffing. He waved at the other Admiralty officers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“We are Kul Tiran,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he said, giving up on using Elvish. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Each of us born for the ocean. Of course we can row.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Woods and Crosby nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And she was our Captain,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sprocket said, almost to himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“The Lord Admiral’s finest.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Lord Admiral,” said Sandpiper - his face lightened - the creases eased. “Of course - the Lord Admiral would need to authorise the missi...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then ask,” said Jess shortly. “I will wait ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandpiper winced, and turned to call the signal middy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tidesage had reached the entryport, and was now brooding into the sea. Jess paced over and thought to do the same. But the ocean offered nothing - no peace or solace. The restlessness she felt had no outlet; instead she paced impatiently, driven by a nameless something. Finally she moved to watch the sailors lowering her gig. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Jess was settled in the sternsheets, flags were breaking from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tiragade’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>halyards - the only one Jess cared about was “Proceed.” Late-afternoon shadows played across the water as the Kul Tirans tumbled into the boat - Jackson’s great bulk settled beside her, leaning quietly on the tiller.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Out oars,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Bosun said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Kul Tiran officers stoutly manhandled the oars out and over the side. Another quiet command from Jackson had their blades set awkwardly in the water. A final word had the boat lurch forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abruptly, Jess was empty again. She slumped down on the sternsheets, ears drooping. Surrounded by people, she felt completely alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where away, m’lord?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>asked Jackson to the Tidesage. Wreckage littered the featureless surface; tangled ropes and broken wood - it was impossible to say where anything was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brother Gull was standing, staring out over the boat’s bow. He tilted his head again, letting out a long breath - then he extended one finger out. Jackson nodded. The Kul Tirans watched this byplay, and rowed even more gamely - they rowed and bumbled for some endless eternity. Then, abruptly, they pulled up. The gig wobbled as they attempted to ship oars; Woods almost lost his hat. All looked at one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Tidesage was pointing down.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess raised her head, removed her hat, then placed an upturned palm on her knee. Magic, warm and bubbling, rose in her chest. So she closed her eyes and poured it up her arm, twitching to keep her hand from closing. Memories fueled its glow - shanties in warm moonlight; a letter being pulled from a pocket; the joy of sharing bitter cups of tea. These memories curled up and solidified, growing stronger. Her eyes opened. Then she dropped the magelight into the water, where it shimmered darkly in the vasty deep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boat rocked a little as she stood, shucking her coat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sprocket spluttered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Perhaps I should…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess plunged into the water. It was freezing. The shock of it threw the breath from Jess’s chest like a punch. She bobbed for a second, gulping down air - then dove. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Down she clawed, down, her eyes burning from the salt. The magelight pierced the water, shining down - she urged it forward until it was almost swallowed by the deep. But there was nothing. Jess held her breath until she couldn’t any longer, eyes straining - only then she turned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She burst back through to the surface, panting. Her hair clung to her face, and her skin felt numbed. But beside her there was the wooden thumps of oars bumbling in their locks, and voices calling, asking if she needed help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess took another deep breath, then ducked under once again. The magelight twinkled before her, rippling in the uneven waters - there was no current. Down, down she went. Jess pushed on past where she should turn, willing her eyes to catch on… but there was nothing. Once again she turned, and swam hard for the ocean’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess burst back out, heaving air. The sun was setting. The swells were heavy, and the little boat was lifted high over them. Diving again was madness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Jess croaked, treading water slowly. She ran cold fingers over the surface of the water. “Please. Just give me the body - just. Just for a little. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heaved again, swallowing thickly; her eyes stung - her whole body shuddered. She floated like that for a few seconds, breathing deeply until she was controlled again. Then she took another gulping breath, and dived as strongly as she dared. Down, down, legs and arms pumping; to where there was no light but the one she had made, and no sound but the pressure in her ears. Jess gave in to despair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A current wound up - it caught her slightly, and pushed. Her magelight slewed sideways - then threw something that could almost be a shadow. Grey eyes widened - aching arms redoubled their efforts, until her ears rang from the pressure, and her hand just barely brushed sodden blue wool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess grabbed at the fabric desperately and dragged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half way up. Her lungs burned from the effort, but she refused to let go. Up and up she hauled, tiring quickly. The journey seemed endless; black spots flickered across her vision. But finally Jess’s eternity ended with precious, delicious air, pouring down her throat, warm in comparison. And in her arms, the body that once housed someone she loved. Jess pulled it close to her chest. It had been lost for so long, and it was so cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That body twitched - choked - dragged down a great lungful of air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess was so startled she yelled, letting go, ears wrenching up in alarm. For an instant, Fitz’s head threatened to go back under the water, and only the quickest reflexes had Jess seizing blue wool again. Magic rose to coil around her fist - but then fizzled out into the water. There was no darkness, no taste of the void. Jess didn’t understand it. She didn’t understand anything. Blinking away the salt from her eyes, taking a few deep breaths, she started swimming for the boat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the gathering darkness, it seemed like every soul had rushed to the gunwale to greet her. The boat was rocking alarmingly; everyone was shouting. When Jess reached them, it seemed like a dozen hands reached out to grab them both and pull them overside.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“She is returned to you,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> hissed the Tidesage. Jess, shivering, looked up at him from the gig’s floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get blankets,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>snapped Sprocket, pointing at the locker. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“All of them!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Kul Tirans stormed around the little boat, ripping into the waterproof supply chest. Jess let them do it, dragging herself up onto the thwart. Then she pushed Sprocket aside, and lifted Fitz’s body onto her lap. It was definitely breathing, and small muscles were twitching. Jess was amazed - she leaned forward, cradling the face in her hands. Brown eyes blinked open, focused, sharpened. Then there was Fitz herself, staring up at her in bewilderment, looking like everything; memories and guilt, rage and dreams, regrets and the future, all at once. Jess’s heart rose unstoppably, knitting itself together with unbearable joy and heartbreak and relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“By the Sun, Fitz,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she choked out.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “You surely should be dead.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she curled in tightly around Fitz’s cold, cold body, and began to weep. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Magnets are basically magic, right? So in the absence of their own mages, the Elvish ships get <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Degaussing">Degaussing equipment</a> - that makes sense to me.</p><p>EDIT: shoot, I promised myself I would remember to put my Tumblr in here this time. <a href="https://barbariousbarbarian.tumblr.com/">I keep forgetting I have it, but here it is anyway!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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